Playing Dirty

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Playing Dirty Page 6

by Kiki Swinson


  “Mr. Chisholm, sorry I’m running behind schedule,” I said, flashing a smile. Although, in my assessment I looked like shit, I knew I was still beautiful. Ophelia had picked out a navy blue Anne Klein suit for me, and I had thrown on a simple pair of black Michael Kors slingbacks. I looked sophisticated, yet businesslike, not my usual flashy self.

  “I pay you to be on time,” Sheldon griped as soon as I walked up. He had no change in his facial expression and looked as ugly as ever, but he was definitely still blinging. Why he would come to court so flashy, I had no idea. I was too tired and preoccupied to even scold his ass.

  “I’m aware of that. It won’t happen again,” I assured, rolling my eyes. “Let’s talk,” I said to him, pointing toward the hallway. His docket was going to be recalled. I had that in the smash, I was sure. Maria watched me leave the courtroom. She didn’t budge, she was waiting.

  I spoke with Mr. Chisholm and explained to him that the purpose of the preliminary hearing was to determine whether the prosecutor had enough evidence to justify further criminal proceedings against him. Sheldon was tense as I spoke. I tried to put him at ease with my words, but it wasn’t working. I explained to him that after the prosecution presented its evidence, I would respond with a motion to dismiss the case and that it would be up to the judge whether or not there was probable cause to send the case to trial.

  “What are my chances?” Sheldon asked seriously, the same unmoved expression on his face.

  “Good,” I assured, confident that Donna had ensured that the case was on the docket of a judge I knew personally and that Brad was going to come through like we’d discussed. I assured Sheldon again that I was going to make a motion to dismiss his case today based on the fact that he had just been a passenger in the car and was not aware there were drugs hidden inside.

  “Sounds good,” he replied. With that, we both headed back inside the courtroom.

  Back inside, we waited. I couldn’t keep my mind off getting high, Maria couldn’t keep her eyes off me, and Sheldon kept his eyes on everyone.

  The judge finally called Sheldon’s docket number. When I looked up and saw Judge Williger, I instantly got happy inside. I just knew I was good money. I had fucked him a few times and paid him as well. He knew he could expect big things from me—especially if the calls went my way in the courtroom.

  “Your Honor, I’d like to make a motion to dismiss, on the grounds of meritless arrest,” I yelled out.

  The judge looked at me over his wire-rimmed glasses. “Motion denied,” he grumped. Judge Williger didn’t even give me a chance to explain the reason for my motion.

  And right at the time when I was about to make my rebuttal, the prosecutor jumped up excitedly. “We move for an immediate trial,” she yelled. It was a prosecutor I didn’t recognize. Clearly, Brad hadn’t spoken to her or set me up to have a prosecutor who knew the deal. Either that or Brad wanted the case to go to trial so he could take me to the bank. I was fucking pissed to no end. Where the fuck was Brad Carlton? If he was there, I probably would’ve walked right up to him and slapped him right in the fucking face. He’d told me he was going to assign the case to an assistant who would make sure we moved past this shit. I had a bone to pick with Mr. Big Dick—that was for sure. I made a mental note to check his ass.

  “Trial date will be set for thirty days from today,” the judge said with finality.

  “Wait, Your Honor, I—I…,” I started, moving uneasily behind the defense table. I could feel Sheldon’s eyes on me, the heat of his glare burning my ass to bits. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him flexing his jaw like he wanted to bite my fucking head off.

  “Counsel, you and your client are dismissed. On to the next docket,” the judge interrupted me, banging his gavel, and looking at me as if to say, “Get the fuck out of my courtroom.” He had totally crushed me and my ego. Williger seemed like he wasn’t fucking with me, which was strange. I had just had him on another case, and he threw the case right out. I looked around, confused and slightly embarrassed.

  While all things couldn’t always go my way in the courtroom, I certainly expected it to go smoothly when it was supposed to be all set up that way, and when I’d reached into my pocket to make sure of it. I expected to lose motions to dismiss with judges I didn’t know, but not with Williger. What the fuck! It seemed like something was really up.

  As Sheldon and I moved toward the exit, I could feel Sheldon walking so close to me, he was damn near on my heels. Once we got outside the courtroom, he moved his huge, ugly face close to my ear. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am fine,” I told him as I tried to muster up a serious but confident expression.

  “You sure? Because they just walked all over you back there.”

  “Oh, that was nothing,” I replied, and waved my hand like I was dismissing that little stunt the judge and the prosecutor pulled on me.

  “Well, I sure hope you do better at trial.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got this thing in the bag,” I assured him.

  “Good, because I can’t go down. And I want you to remember I am paying you to make sure of it,” he growled with his thick accent. It was very clear that he didn’t want another stunt like this pulled at the major showdown, and I understood. I got an instant headache, and I literally felt like I had stepped into very unfamiliar territory.

  Now as I watched him and his two bodyguards walk away, I felt like he was taking my life with him. That alone gave me an uneasy feeling and I didn’t like it one bit. So, to keep my head level, I had to remind myself about my pot of gold at the end of the tunnel. And as soon as that registered, I was back to normal.

  When I turned around to leave, I noticed Maria. It would’ve been inappropriate for her to approach me there in the courthouse. She was DEA and I was a defense attorney; we were on totally different sides of the fence. No one outside of our immediate circle knew that we were best friends; we kept it that way purposely. I used the fact that she wouldn’t dare come up to me right there in the courthouse to my advantage. I immediately raced for the elevators, and when I reached the first floor, I bolted out the back of the courthouse, heading for my car in an almost dead run. I started fishing in my purse for my keys before I made it to the car. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible; talking to Maria was not on my agenda for today.

  As I walked up to the car, I noticed that Maria was standing right there. I can’t figure out how the fuck she got there so fast—this bitch acted like a ghost sometimes, seriously. I guess in this case she was a woman on a mission. She’d told me a long time ago that it was her life’s mission to repay me for helping her through school, and she took on the task of keeping me straight and clean. It was a task that she took dead serious. At this very moment she didn’t look too pleased, and I didn’t want to look her straight in her face. If anyone knew me well, it was her. She didn’t look too happy to see my ass, and I damn sure wasn’t happy to see her right now. This bitch could read me like an open book. We both knew that.

  “Where have you been?” she asked sternly, her arms folded across her chest.

  “I went to visit my mother,” I lied, avoiding eye contact. Maria knew I never went to the nursing home to visit my mother. I sent plenty of money, but I couldn’t stand to see my mother in her condition. Alzheimer’s had all but claimed what was left of her frail body. I was ashamed of her, and I couldn’t stand to see her in her current state.

  “Bullshit! I know that’s a lie, and you know it!” she confronted me. Maria knew better than anyone how selfish I was. She also knew how I acted toward my mother’s condition. Therefore, saying I was visiting her was the worst lie I could have ever come up with, and I knew it as soon as the words had rolled off my tongue.

  “Maria, I don’t have to lie to you,” I replied calmly.

  “Well, you’re doing it,” she shot back. Then she leaned in toward me. “Come on now, I know you’ve been frolicking around with those fucking criminals y
ou hang out with. It wouldn’t surprise me if you got pissy drunk and fell out smack-dab in the middle of the floor. Then one of Santana’s henchmen carried your ass up to the nearest bedroom and took advantage of your ass.”

  I gave her a half smile. “Yeah, right! That would never happen. I’m too classy for that type of shit. And besides, you know me well enough to know that I don’t fuck the help. Maybe Santana, but not one of his flunkies!”

  “Oh, so that’s who you were laid up with these last couple of days?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped.

  “Well, it must be true, because you are getting a little too defensive.”

  “I’m not getting defensive, I’m just a little tired.”

  “How was the party anyway?”

  “It was okay.” I tried to downplay it.

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe. So spill your guts and tell me how it really was.”

  “Look, I’m dealing with a lot right now. You could at least ask how I was doing before giving me the third degree,” I complained, quickly changing the subject, fidgeting with my keys.

  She sucked her teeth. “When have I ever asked you how you are doing?” she replied sarcastically. “We talk to each other damn near every day and that question never comes out of my mouth.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Maria!”

  “Please spare me with that nonsense,” she answered, softening her tone and scanning me, trying to probe with her eyes. I knew just how to play it off with her. I wasn’t about to let her look in my face for a long time. There was but so much makeup could hide.

  “You wanna do lunch?” she asked, already knowing the answer would be no.

  “Nah, I gotta go to the office. I got work to do. You saw what just happened,” I explained, getting myself out of going to lunch with her. If I was around her a second longer, she would definitely know I had gotten high.

  “Yeah, I was really surprised at Williger,” she replied.

  “That’s alright. I’ll get Judge Allen on the trial and it’ll be another Choo or Santana for me,” I confidently assured her as I began to walk away.

  “Look, don’t disappear again on me, bitch, or I’ll come get your ass,” she said jokingly, clearing the air between us. I was glad she gave up on her interrogation of my whereabouts. I hated to lie to her right to her face, but sometimes she left me no choice.

  “I won’t,” I assured her before I slid into my car. And right when I was about to pull away, she ran toward my car and stuck her head in the driver’s-side window.

  “Oh yeah, and stop fucking all of your clients and get some sleep. You look like shit! And besides, I know you don’t want to end up with a bad rep!” she said.

  Her words hit me right in the gut. I wondered if she knew something or if she was just joking. You never could tell with Maria. I gave her a halfhearted smile and I pulled out. She had said I looked like shit, and that was the first time she’d said that in years. Well, little did she know, I felt like shit as well. I had to get myself back on track. I called Ophelia on her cell phone and told her to get my valet ticket from my Marc Jacobs clutch and give it to the valet I’d given that huge tip to and tell him to retrieve my Aston Martin from the Panama nightclub. With that off my mind, I was ready to get down to business.

  Out of My Comfort Zone

  The very next day Maria begged me to come over to her house. So after work I hopped in my car and drove over there. She lived in a posh, new neighborhood next to Lake Cabbas. The homes here had to be in the neighborhood of $800,000 to $1 million. The only people I could imagine living out here were judges and high-level executives. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead living out here. It reeked from the smell of family life and children running around in the streets on their fucking skateboards. I can’t deal with that type of lifestyle. (I was far from a wife and a soccer mom, so I’ve always left the two-story homes with manicured lawns to Maria. I just cross my fingers that one day she’ll find her knight in shining armor who will fuck her to death and give her a couple of kids.)

  Upon my arrival she greeted me at the front door. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Thanks for coming by,” she said.

  I stepped across the threshold and extended my arms to give her a hug.

  “Wow! You smell good! What is that you’re wearing?” she asked.

  “Agent Provocateur,” I said, making my way through the foyer. “It was something I picked up from Neiman Marcus a few weeks back.”

  “Good choice,” she replied; then we both walked into the living-room area of her home.

  “What’s up with the workout gear? Whatcha just come in from working out?” I asked as I took a seat on the sofa.

  “Yes, I did. Our whole task force had to do a drill today. And guess who had to tag along?”

  I chuckled. “You, huh?”

  She sighed heavily. “Yes! And that shit liked to have killed my ass. I’ve never been worked so hard in my life.”

  “I thought you said basic training was hard.”

  “Yeah, it was, but when you haven’t worked out in a drill exercise in a while, then you’re bound to feel fucked-up,” she explained as she headed over to the bar area stationed in the corner of her living room. “Want a drink?” she continued as she fumbled with a couple of glasses.

  “Yes! Make me a martini, please.”

  “You want it shaken or stirred?”

  “Shaken, please.”

  “You got it,” she said as she started making the martini precisely the way I wanted it. “So, what’s new?” she continued as she fished around in a bowl of olives with a toothpick in hand.

  “It’s the same ole thing, different day.”

  She walked my drink over and handed it to me. “Well, a couple of my agents got a big case that’s about to go down, and the guy that they’re about to bust has money coming out the ass! He has real estate in South America and in upstate New York. The word around the office is he’s running five hundred kilos through the ports once a week. And that much coke coming into the docks without being tampered with leads me to believe that this guy has a lot of people on his payroll. So there will be a lot of people going down when this whole thing blows up.”

  “Who is this guy? What’s his name?”

  “Juan Alvarez.”

  My mouth fell wide open. “Wait a minute, are you talking about the Juan Alvarez who owns the night club La Cienda? The drug lord from Ecuador? The motherfucker who had his daughter killed because she married one of the Gomez brothers?”

  “He allegedly had his daughter murdered. He beat those charges, remember?” Maria corrected me.

  “Whatever! Same damn thing!” I interjected. “So you’re telling me that this guy is about to go down?”

  Maria nodded her head, and all I could see were dollar signs. “Well, when is it going to happen?”

  “I can’t say because it’s confidential. But I will say that as soon as we bring him in, I’m gonna let you know, so you can be the first one on the welcome wagon.”

  “Well, can you tell me if there are any informants who’d kill the case for me if I decided to pick it up?”

  “There are a few, but they aren’t credible. You’d be able to eliminate them at the preliminary hearing.”

  I took a sip of my drink. “It sure feels good to have contacts on the inside, but I just can’t figure out how you guys are going to catch him with his shipment. Normally, men of that caliber don’t come within ten miles of their shit.”

  “I know, but word has it, a lot of his product had been disappearing after it comes through the docks, so he told his right-hand man he’s going to show up at the pier to make sure that his product gets through without any interruptions.”

  “Wow! This shit sounds like I’m watching a fucking Scarface movie or something.”

  “It’s going to look like one when my boys take his ass down.”

  I smiled. “You like that cowboy-and-Indian shit, don’t you?�


  “My adrenaline pumps when I talk about it. That’s why I wished I were back on the streets.”

  “Girl, please get over it and leave that cop-and-robber shit to the men! All you need to do is sit back and get all the information you can get, so you can get paid. That’s it,” I told her, and took another sip of my martini.

  The conversation about Mr. Alvarez lasted for another five to ten minutes, and then we started talking about Sheldon Chisholm. I didn’t have much to say about him, but Maria had a lot to say. I sat back and listened. Pretty much everything she said, I had already known, so a lot of the shit she was saying kind of went in one ear and right out the other. I was more interested in that drug bust that was about to go down. Yeah, it would be good to get the cold hard cash and the publicity for representing him, but who’s to say that he didn’t already have counsel on payroll? And if he did, then where did that leave me?

  Unless I intercepted their whole operation by informing Mr. Alvarez that he was about to be taken down. I knew damn well I could get a million in cash for that type of information. And if that be the case, I’d be able to get more money in less time than if I had to represent him. What a sweet deal that would be. But then I figured, what would that do for Maria? She would be devastated if she knew I crossed her. But then, too, how would she find out?

  I was sure Mr. Alvarez wouldn’t tell her, but after I let the cat out of the bag that he had an informant in his midst, shit was going to really hit the fan. I just hoped he would play it cool and keep things under wraps, because I couldn’t have my name mentioned in any form, shape, or fashion. Maria would shit on me for real! Not only that, she could lose her fucking position if it was leaked that I got the information from her. But then again, shit happens. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here and people were going to look out for themselves. I guess I was going to have to follow suit and do what I needed to stay in this game. Right now, I was trying to stay on top, and if that meant fucking people over to do it, then so be it. Maria would just have to understand.

 

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